


I will lay me down

by JanetSnakehole



Series: The Internet is For Porn: Darcy Lewis Smut Week '16 [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcy Lewis Smut Week, F/M, QuickTaser, gotta pay the troll toll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 06:38:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7157675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanetSnakehole/pseuds/JanetSnakehole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For someone who doesn't like to stand still, Pietro sure does a good job of being right in her way, all the time. Darcy is OVER IT.</p><p>Day 5 of Darcy Lewis Smut Week</p>
            </blockquote>





	I will lay me down

**Author's Note:**

> So. The day 5 prompt was Troll Bridge. Naturally my first thought was "hell no am I bothering to write a troll AU," and my second thought was the song from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. You know, the one that goes "You gotta pay the troll toll, if you want the boy's soul." And then this is what happened. 
> 
> I'd also like to be a total creeper fangirl here and dedicate this to Dresupi, without whom I would never have shipped these two in the first place. If you've never read any of her Darcy/Pietro (or her other amazing stuff!), what are you even doing with your life. Go read that instead. It's better than this, I promise. 
> 
> (Title from Bridge Over Troubled Water, by Simon and Garfunkel)

Darcy wasn’t quite sure when it started. It wasn’t immediately after he moved into the Tower, she knew that much. But sometime between when she first met Pietro and when she first realized that he was an obnoxious dork (which, really, took longer than it should have), he made it his mission to  _ constantly _ be in her way any time he was around her. 

 

Most mornings, everyone ate breakfast together in the kitchen on the forty third floor. Darcy would go to the fridge for the milk, and there he would be, leaning against the fridge door like he owned the damn thing. She would glare and shove at his well-muscled arm to make him move. She was not to be fucked with before food and/or coffee happened.

 

In her downtime, she liked to bake. She found it calming. But all too often, Pietro would turn up and decide to stand directly between the kitchen island and the oven while she was trying to slide sheet pans of cookies into it. Usually he stood there with his arms crossed over his broad chest, eyebrows raised in a challenge to her to say something. Most of the time, she’d hip bump him to get out of her way. He’d laugh and make some flirty joke and the blockade was forgotten.

 

But his personal favorite, it seemed, was the bridge. Sitting on the couch in the common area, he would prop his feet on the coffee table, blocking her path on her way to and from her preferred comfy chair. Sometimes she would step over him, other times she would just keep walking until her knees hit his legs and forced his feet down. One night, though, she had had it. 

 

“Move your damn legs,” she snapped, glaring down at him. 

 

A not-terribly-convincing look of surprise was painted on his face. “Am I in your way?”

 

“Come on, Pietro.”

 

He grinned up at her wickedly. “You have to pay the toll.”

 

Darcy’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

 

“You know, like in the fairy tales. To cross a bridge, you have to pay a toll,” he waggled his eyebrows at her.

 

“And you know that this analogy makes you a literal troll, right?” He just shrugged in response. She rolled her eyes, wondering why she even bothered with him sometimes. Okay, yeah, he was surface-of-the-sun level _scorching_ _hot_ , and occasionally charming, and flirty, and sweet. But also pretty obnoxious when he set his mind to it. Which was often.

 

Giving up, she opted for stepping over his legs. When she had one foot over him, he suddenly grabbed her wrist to stop her, leaving her standing with legs parted on either side of his knees. “What, you don’t even want to know what the toll is? You might like it.”

 

She was beginning to regret her choice to go over instead of through him. The way his eyes raked over the thighs exposed by her skirt, and slowly up her body, it was… having an unexpected effect on her. More specifically, on her lady parts. His thumb stroked the inside of her wrist as she stood over him, struggling to wrap her brain around what was happening. She should pull her hand away and keep walking. Yeah. That was definitely what she should do. That was one hundred percent the right choice. Why was she not doing that?

 

A flush crept up her neck and across her chest as she, against all better judgement, asked, “So, what is the toll, exactly?”

 

He clearly hadn’t been expecting that response. A look of hesitation crossed his features for only a moment before his usual suave grin made a reappearance. Tugging at her wrist, he drew her forward so she was off balance, and she stumbled into him, her knees bracketing his solid thighs. Darcy’s forward momentum brought her face close to his, and all he had to do was tilt his head up slightly so their lips met. 

 

She made a muffled squeak and tensed up for just a split second–which, to Pietro, was an excruciatingly long time to second-guess his move–before relaxing into the kiss. Her fingers threaded through his hair, using her new grip to pull him closer. A low moan rumbled in his chest, as her nails raked over his scalp and sent a shiver cascading down his entire body. 

 

His hands traveled down her waist to grip her thighs lightly, fingers leaving a tingling trail in their wake. She gasped a little at the feel of his skin burning on hers, and he took advantage of her parted lips to slide his tongue in to meet hers. The entwining of their tongues brought her back to her senses for a second, and she broke away from the kiss, lips swollen and pink from the attention. Her eyes were a little unfocused as she looked at him and smiled. “Okay, so there’s a slight chance you were right. I didn’t absolutely hate paying the toll.”

 

The smoldering in his eyes sent a bolt of heat flooding to her core as he said, in a dangerously low voice, “Oh, Darcy, that wasn’t the toll.” He captured her lips once again, fingertips pressing more insistently to her thighs.

 

Almost involuntarily, Darcy rolled her hips into his, trying to gain some pressure where she needed it, some relief, from the tension that was building in her. The stupid track pants Pietro always insisted on wearing did nothing to hide the bulging swell of his growing erection. She groaned, grinding herself onto his hardening cock as he sucked at her lower lip. His calloused fingers skimmed up her thighs toward the heat of her core. 

 

It wasn’t long before one of his hands had worked its way under her skirt. Prickly stubble scratched at the delicate skin of her throat as he nuzzled his way down her neck, leaving a hot, sucking kiss at the top of her collarbone. She gasped as his fingers traced their way over the seam at the edge of her panties, where thigh met groin. She knew she was already soaked, and it was just a matter of moments until his fingers swiped over the damp fabric and he noticed just how wet she was. As if on cue, he cupped her through the satiny material, and she could feel him smiling into the skin of her throat. “You’re drenched,” he murmured into the crook of her neck, following the words with a hot swipe of his tongue and a gentle nip of his teeth. 

 

Darcy rolled her hips again, pressing herself against the heel of his hand, and moaned into the sensation. Ignoring her noise of protest, Pietro slid his hand back to her thigh. Teasing fingers skimmed over the wet spot on her panties once, twice, three times. Huffing, Darcy scrabbled for his wrist to hold him still. Only a thin ring of blue surrounded her pupils, blown wide with lust. “Pietro. Stop dicking around and fucking touch me,” she commanded, slipping his fingers under the elastic of her underwear.

 

He was more than happy to oblige, collecting the slick from her opening on his calloused fingertips, and slowly dragging them up to coat her clit in the slippery wetness. “Oh, God, yes,” Darcy sighed, pulling her mouth back down to his and running her tongue across his bottom lip. He thumbed circles around her clit, gradually increasing the pressure and speed until she was panting against him. 

 

Pietro slid one finger inside her soaking cunt and felt a slight throb of her inner muscles at his presence as he continued to work torturous circles around her clit with his thumb. Her lips were parted, whispering a near-silent prayer. As best he could tell, it contained the words “Oh God” and “fuck,” and if he wasn’t mistaken, “Pietro” was thrown in the mix as well. He slipped a second finger into her, working in tandem with the first. This time, she moaned his name at a truly indecent volume. If he hadn’t already been rock hard, the sound of her crying out his name so wantonly would have had him going from six to midnight immediately. As it was, it just made him painfully desperate to thrust himself into her wet heat, and feel her cumming on his cock as he chased his release.

 

He continued pumping his fingers in and out of her, moving in time with the way she was undulating her hips. She could feel her pussy began to flutter slightly around his fingers. Placing his thumb just above her clit, where that marvelous little organ extended under the surface, he began to swipe it back and forth. Quickly. The sensation was so intense (like,  _ Hitachi Magic Wand _ intense) that she jumped a little, startled by the unexpected addition of his powers into their encounter.

 

Pietro stopped moving immediately, attuned to her surprise. “Darcy? Are you–”

 

“If you don’t do that again right now, I might kill you,” she cut him off before he could finish his question. 

 

He grinned wickedly and buzzed her clit again, dragging his finger pads across her g-spot with every stroke. Crying out, her breath hitched in her throat as she came, walls pulsing around his fingers as he coaxed her through her release. She slumped bonelessly onto him, panting into his shoulder for a few moments. 

 

“Holy shit,” she gasped as she sat back to look into his eyes. “As much as I hate to admit you were right, I absolutely  _ did _ enjoy paying the toll.”

 

He chuckled, sliding his fingers out of her and sucking them into his mouth, licking the taste of her clean. He pulled her in for another kiss, and the taste of herself on his tongue made her ache with need to do the whole thing again, right then and there. Sliding her hand between them, she traced over his stiff cock. Grinning up at her, he said, “Darcy. Did you really think  _ that  _ was the toll?” 

**Author's Note:**

> I love to hear feedback! This is my first time writing for Pietro, so any input would be appreciated!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr if you want, @itsjanetsnakehole


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